


Tastes Like Love

by m3aculpa



Category: Glee
Genre: Chinese Character, Cooking, Family, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mother and her son share a moment in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Like Love

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Tastes Like Love  
>  **Fandom:** Glee  
>  **Rating:** G  
>  **Word count:** 715 words  
>  **Character(s):** Mike Chang, Mrs Chang  
>  **Pairing(s):** None  
>  **Warnings:** Fluff? Heart attack induced by the fact that I wrote fluff _again_? My rudimentary knowledge of China.  
>  **Summary:** A mother and her son share a moment in the kitchen.  
>  **a/n:**  I've lost a lot of the Mandarin I learnt when I was younger, but what I do remember from my lessons is the love for food in China. That's what brought this on.  
>  Translation of the names of the dishes can be found in the end author's note. I hope you don't get as hungry as I did while I was writing this!

**Tastes Like Love**

When his father is away on business, Mike takes his homework down to the kitchen and works through his math, through his English homework or through the sheet music for Glee. His mum will smile softly when she sees him there, before she starts to prepare a meal for the two of them.

His mother’s family is from the Hunan province, in east China, a small town near the river. His mother has visited, but she’s born in the USA. Mike has never been. He listens to her stories about the town, about the colour of the river, about the entire town putting up a table and supplying different dishes for a shared meal. Together they’d eat, seated along a table that stretched across the main street, and laugh all night long.

She cooks dishes like _jia chan doufu_ and _zhang cha ya_. Mike loves sitting in the kitchen and feeling the smells in the kitchen as the ingredients transforms into something delicious. He feels a little silly to admit it, but it smells like China. Smells like the country he’s never been to, but feels like somewhere he might belong, anyway. It feels like home.

His father’s family is from Beijing. He thinks that his wife’s home cuisine is too hot. When he’s home they eat dishes like _Beijing kao ya_ with pancakes, instead of rice, and _jiao hua ji_ , which Mike’s mum cooks in a clay pot with utmost care. Mike prefers the dry, hot flavours of the Hunan cuisine. But he’d never dare to tell his father that.

During the times when his father is away, Mike will be bent studiously over his homework in the kitchen. But sometimes, when his mother’s back is turned, he will look up, just to see her work. Her fingers are nimble as she slices and dices. It’s like an intricate dance as she wields the knife and forms the ingredients to what she wants them to. When she plates the finished dish, it’s like an art installation. It’s very beautiful. Sometimes it’s breathtaking.

Today, she’s making _zhang cha ya_. It’s Mike’s favourite and he knows that it’s a treat for winning at Sectionals and for the success of _West Side_ _Story._ She smiles when she catches his eye as she pulls out the duck, rubbed with peppers and salt yesterday without him noticing, from the refrigerator. Water boils on the stove and she puts the duck in the sink. He holds his breath as she pours the boiling water over one side of the duck, then over the other side.

In China, she would have used camphor wood for smoking. But this is the States and she has to do with heavy-duty foil and a wok. Mike turns his attention back to his homework as she smokes the duck for twenty minutes. She sits down at the table with him, with a book in her hand, and it feels– comfortable, for lack of a better word. Some unknown tension disappears from Mike’s shoulders and he relaxes.

Math problems absorb his attention and he hears her moving the duck from the wok, where it’s been smoking, over to the pot, where it’ll steam for thirty minutes. He solves a problem and takes a deep breath. The smells are tantalising and his stomach growls halfway through the time the duck needs to steam for. She laughs at him softly and he flushes.

She fries the duck until the skin is golden and crisp. Mike gives up any pretence of working and smiles as his mum turns to look at him. She plates the duck and serves with hoisin sauce and steamed buns, which he hasn’t even noticed her making until know.

He puts his things away and murmurs, “thank you”, when she sets down the plate in front of him.

“I’m proud of you,” she says in her Xiang dialect.

They mostly speak Mandarin at home. But when they’re alone, she’ll speak to him in her province’s dialect even as he has trouble to follow her words.

He smiles and feels something akin to a bird flutter in his chest. He wants to tell her that he loves her, but she already knows. He eats the meal with enthusiasm and it tastes like love on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

>  **a/n:** _Jia chan dofu_ = Homestyle Tofu (the name of the dish)  
>  _Zhang cha ya_ = Sichuan smoked duck  
>  _Jiao hua ji_ = Beggar’s Chicken  
>  _Beijing kao ya_ = Beijing Duck


End file.
